


Respite

by lightimagay



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightimagay/pseuds/lightimagay
Summary: Andy and Nile have some time to themselves between missions.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Nile Freeman
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2020





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kathryne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathryne/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this! I loved The Old Guard, and I had fun rewatching it to write this fic. :)

The missions are back to back to back. Nile loses count of how many bullet wounds appear in her body before sealing back up, like they never existed. She tries not to think about how many times she has been burned or stabbed or lost a finger or two in such a short amount of time. 

The one thing she can’t ignore is the laundry. While her body might be able to fix itself, the blood, unfortunately, remains, staining every piece of clothing she owns. Nile is used to the grime and sweat from being a Marine, and she’s always thought she had a pretty strong stomach. But she still feels out of her depth here. 

One night, Nile holds up a once white shirt that turned completely maroon from her own blood. She clearly doesn’t mask the shock on her face well enough because Andy says, “You’ll get used to it.” 

“Just don’t get attached to your clothes,” Joe jokes. He and Nicky match. They both have five bullet holes in their shirts.

They end up at a laundromat seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Their last mission was taking out an assassin hiding out in the States that Copley had warned was “highly lethal.” Clearly, he hadn’t been exaggerating based on the current state of their clothes. All their shirts from today are a lost cause, but their pants are at least salvageable.

"Should we really be doing our laundry here?” Nile asks, schlepping a duffel bag full of bloodied clothes behind her. “If someone sees all this blood, they might think to call the cops on us.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Andy says, carrying her significantly smaller bag of laundry. “This place is technically closed, so only the owner is here right now.”

When they walk into the laundromat, no one is there besides a hulking man sitting at a table, counting a wad of cash. He glares at them, and Andy gives a curt nod. The man mutters something under his breath and resumes his counting.

“You trust _that_ guy not to rat on us?” Nile whispers.

Andy smirks. “Trust is a strong word,” she says, unzipping her duffel and unloading clothing that is _much_ less bloody than Nile’s. “I have some dirt on him, so I know he won’t squeal on us.”

On the other side of the laundromat, Joe and Nicky are unloading their own clothes. They keep playfully touching each other, and Nile can make out their smiles in the fluorescent light. Nile wishes she could smile like that right now. Instead, she keeps replaying worst case scenarios in her head.

Nile sticks her less bloody clothes in one of the washers. She scrubs at her more bloody clothes in a sink to the side of laundromat, watching as red rivulets spiral into the drain. When they’re as clean as they’re going to get, she sits on a bench and watches her clothes spin round and round and round in the washer.

She tries to dissociate, tries to just focus on her jeans and jacket being flung around in the water, but she keeps thinking about what would have happened if she hadn’t noticed. She thinks about _red_ pouring from Andy’s neck, her bulging eyes, the world caving in.

"Hey, you okay?” 

Nile snaps back to reality. Andy is sitting next to her on the bench, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. She has a bottle of vodka lodged between her legs, and Nile can’t help but notice that her legs are _bare._ She’s wearing little black shorts that are riding up on her thighs, and Nile feels her mouth go dry. She’s never seen Andy’s legs uncovered before. But, then again, how long have they know each other? A couple months? It feels longer than that.

Yes, it feels longer. Long. Like Andy’s legs. They’re a little paler than her arms, but they still look strong, lean, and muscular. Nile realizes she’s staring and looks away. Back to the washer. Back to her safe swirling clothes.

“I’m fine,” Nile says, picking at a thread on her jeans. She jerks her head toward the bottle of vodka. “Where’d you even get that?”

“It turns out I traded my immortality for the ability to conjure booze whenever I want it.” Andy offers the bottle to Nile. “Want some?”

Without answering, Nile grabs the bottle and takes a long swig. It’s too much. She coughs and pats her chest. “Damn,” she gasps. “How do you pound this shit like water?”

“Practice.” Andy takes the bottle back and takes an outrageously long swig. Nile watches the long column of her neck as she gulps it down. When Andy stops and screws the cap back on, Nile makes sure to turn her attention back to the washer.

It’s silent for a while save for the rumbling of the washers. Nile wonders if she should say it or keep it bottled up. Nicky tells her she can be honest with all of them, but sometimes she wonders if there’s a point to being honest.

Then she remembers Booker. He wasn’t honest. And what did that get him? Betraying the only people who understood him to a megalomaniac and a hundred years of exile.

“You almost died,” Nile murmurs, her hands clenching into fists.

Andy takes another swig of her vodka before saying, “So _that’s_ what’s eating you up.”

“I’m being serious, Andy.”

It had all happened so quickly: they had cornered the assassin in his hideout. Andy told him to drop his gun, and he did. She stepped toward him, and that’s when Nile saw his hand twitch. Nile thinks she shouted when he pulled out the knife, but she can’t be sure. She just remembers her brain screaming _Andy_ and her body moving on its own. The blade hit her square in the chest before she fell to the ground, but she doesn’t remember the pain. She just remembers Andy’s wide eyes staring down at her before she schooled her expression.

“So am I,” Andy replies. “Nile, look at me.” Nile doesn’t look up. She just looks at her fists. “ _Nile._ ”

Finally, Nile looks up, and Andy is staring at her, green eyes bright and intense. “You can’t beat yourself up over what-ifs.” She places a hand on Nile’s shoulder. “You’ll just drive yourself crazy.”

 _But what if I’m not able to save you next time? What if I fail?_ The words almost tumble out of Nile, but she stops herself. Stays silent. Just nods.

That’s good enough for Andy because she lets go and smiles. “Anyway, I really should be thanking you,” she says, giving Nile a side glance. “You took quite the dive for me today.”

Nile snorts, feeling her face heat up. “Just did what I had to do,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Feels like you’ve become my knight in shining armor these days.” Andy is smiling. It’s a joke, Nile knows, but that doesn’t stop her face from feeling hot. It doesn’t help that Andy is giving her such a fond look, either.

Nile looks away to where Joe and Nicky are on the other side of the laundromat, but that isn’t any better. Joe is rubbing Nicky’s arm and kissing his neck. Nile feels like she’s intruding on an intimate moment by looking at them, but meeting Andy’s gaze right now feels like too much for some reason.

“Yeah, well,” Nile says, trying to keep her voice steady, eyes trained on the washing machine, “you should be more careful.”

“I’m as careful as I can be.” Nile can hear the smile in Andy’s voice.

* * *

Their respite is a dingy motel by the laundromat. They’re not low on funds, but Nile has quickly learned that Andy is one to choose convenience over comfort. Therefore, they usually end up staying at whatever place is relatively close to their mission and has available rooms. 

That usually translates to only two beds at night. Nicky and Joe take one, of course, so that leaves Andy and Nile in the other. 

Tonight is different, though. The receptionist gives Andy two sets of keys. She tosses one to Joe and pockets the other.

Joe takes Nicky’s hand and gives Andy a mock bow. “You’re very kind,” he says.

Andy smiles. “Remember that.” She jerks her head toward Nile. “You’re with me, Nile.”

When they get to their room, the first thing Nile notices is that there’s only one bed. It’s small too. Nile is used to sharing a bed with Andy by now, but for some reason she feels strange about it tonight, feels a weird twist in her gut. Maybe it’s because Joe and Nicky aren’t with them this time. She gets that they deserve some alone time, but she can't help but feel on edge.

There isn’t much in the room: just the too small bed, a rundown coffee table, a lamp with a partially ripped shade propped up on a nightstand, and an alarm clock that blares the time in red. It’s already past midnight.

Because there’s not much in the room to look at, Nile’s eyes return to Andy. Or at least that’s the excuse she gives herself. Andy, without warning, starts stripping, and Nile is given a view of the flexing muscles in her back before she looks away.

“Mind if I shower first?” Andy asks.

Nile shakes her head before realizing Andy’s back is turned to her. “No,” she manages.

Nile doesn’t even have time to collect her thoughts because Andy showers fast. The water clicks off, and it’s Nile’s turn. The low pressure water hitting her face does nothing to clear her head or calm her nerves. Soon enough, they’re both in their sleep clothes (tank tops and sweatpants), in bed, lights off, and facing away from each other.

Usually, Nile is out like a light. Their missions have been long and hard, and their sleeping conditions are admittedly nicer compared to her time in Afghanistan. Tonight, for some reason, her mind refuses to shut off. Images of Andy keep popping up: the look of shock on her face after Nile dove in front of her, her fond eyes when she joked that Nile was her knight in shining armor, and her long, strong bare legs. Nile can’t stop thinking about what they’d feel like.

“You sure are restless tonight.”

Andy’s voice shatters her thoughts, and Nile feels her face flush. She realizes that she has been tossing and turning when she needs to just stay still even if her brain won’t leave her alone.

“Sorry,” Nile murmurs.

“Look,” Andy says, “it’s fine if you need me to step outside for a bit.”

“What do you mean?” Nile stares at the back of Andy’s head.

“I’m craving a Snickers anyway, and I know there’s a vending machine out there.” Andy’s voice is calm and slightly sleepy. “If you need to blow off some steam, I can make myself scarce for a bit.”

Nile doesn’t say anything. It takes her a moment to register what Andy’s words mean. When she finally does, her reaction is involuntary. “ _What?”_ She shoots up in bed.

Andy turns around and flicks the light on, face completely neutral, as if she hadn’t just said what she'd said. Like she’s just briefing Nile on a mission. “There’s no shame in it,” she continues. “I get it. Copley’s been piling missions on us, and he’ll probably give us a new one in the morning. We haven’t had any downtime. That’s why I got Joe and Nicky their own room.”

Nile opens her mouth and snaps it shut. She has no idea what to say.

“Or,” Andy says, and she’s _smirking,_ “do you want a hand?”

“ _What?”_

“I don’t mind. Your choice.”

Nile’s mind is _reeling._ Is this a joke? If Nile says yes, then will Andy just laugh at her? No. No, that’s not Andy’s style. She’s not cruel like that. Then why? Has she noticed Nile looking at her? Or does she somehow think this is a normal friendly thing to offer someone? Does she think this is normal because of how long she’s lived? Or is Nile the one overreacting?

Finally, Nile manages, “Won’t…won’t this make things, you know, complicated?” The “between us” is unsaid, but it’s implied.

“ _Our_ lives are inherently complicated,” Andy says. She gives Nile the same fond look that she did at the laundromat, and Nile wills herself not to look away. “Look, I’m not proposing to you, Nile. Just offering an orgasm to help clear your head. It’s fine if you’re not interested.”

“I’m.” Nile licks her lips. Now or never. “I’m interested.”

“Great.” Andy pushes the comforter off and crawls on top of Nile. She wastes no time slipping her hand down Nile’s sweatpants.

Andromache of Scythia has her hand down Nile’s pants, and Nile is too turned on to register how strange that is. She used to think Andy just saw her as a dumb naïve kid, but she certainly doesn't feel that way now – not with the way Andy’s fingers are brushing up against her underwear. 

Nile would be embarrassed by how quickly she's getting wet if it didn’t feel so good. Even through the fabric, Andy’s fingers rubbing against her pussy feel amazing. She never wants this friction to stop. It has been so long. Too long. Now there’s nothing but the feeling of Andy’s hand and the smell of the cheap motel soap clinging to her.

Andy pulls Nile's underwear down and shimmies it down her thighs. Now her hand is directly on her, collecting her wetness, and rubbing her clit fast and hard just the way she likes it. 

Nile lets out a loud moan, feeling her orgasm approaching, and she covers her mouth to stifle herself. Andy pulls her hand away. “Let me hear you,” she says, eyes gentle, voice soft, and Nile can’t help but moan again.

“That’s a good girl,” Andy whispers, and Nile comes hard, her arms and legs twitching, her mouth open in a silent gasp. She feels boneless.

Nile doesn’t think anything else can surprise her tonight, but it turns out she’s wrong. Andy bends down and kisses her forehead. Then she presses another kiss on her lips, brief and fleeting, but Nile knows she didn’t imagine it. She can feel the heat of it.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Andy says, flopping down on her back. “Tomorrow will probably be an early one.”

“Do you want? You know?” Nile is impressed she’s even able to get words out.

Andy laughs a quiet fond laugh. She brushes her fingers through Nile’s hair. “Maybe next time.” 

_Next time._ Images flash through Nile’s mind: Andy moaning with pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut, her long legs shivering, and the muscles in her arms twitching. She quickly banishes them. It would be a problem if she got turned on again.

Nile pulls her sweats back on, and Andy flicks the light switch back off. They’re not touching anymore, but they’re closer than they’ve ever been in a bed before, their arms and legs nearly brushing. Nile listens to Andy’s breathing. She’s not asleep yet.

Tomorrow will be a new mission, and Nile might end up being shot or stabbed again. She might end up jumping in front of Andy again. Might end up being the one thing shielding her from death.

“I’m going to keep protecting you, Andy,” Nile says, voice firm. Andy doesn’t reply, but Nile knows she heard her, so she continues. “But also…you need to protect yourself sometimes, okay?”

Silence. It stretches on and on. The minutes on the alarm clock tick by.

But then Andy whispers, “I’ll try.”

That’s good enough. Nile smiles and scoots closer to Andy. Their arms and legs touch. She closes her eyes and lets herself sleep.


End file.
